


between heaven, the sky, the earth

by frenchfrysplash



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Jamie-centric, Post-Canon, angst I guess?, because I'm MEAN I GUESS, but also canon divergence in certain places, inspired by how much I love fix-its but that I want them to WORK FOR IT, jamie goes on a quest!, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchfrysplash/pseuds/frenchfrysplash
Summary: Jamie goes between one moment, and the next. Falling around her like rain, like snow.She's here for a reason. Here to help.She just needs to remember.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 31
Kudos: 116





	1. phantasms

**Author's Note:**

> hey there everybody. welcome. I love a good fix-it fic, but I also love a fic where they've got to deal with some angst first. so here you all go!
> 
> sidenote, I'm a fandom old so i'm obligated to do this: disclaimer! haunting of bly manor and its characters don't belong to me! I'm just stretching my writing muscles a bit. Thanks!

_They say a dream takes only a second or so, and yet in that second a man can live a lifetime. He can suffer and die, and who's to say which is the greater reality: the one we know or the one in dreams, between heaven, the sky, the earth"- "Perchance to Dream," The Twilight Zone, Episode 1x09_

_April 1984_

Jamie's fingers twisted together, so tight it almost hurt.

The kitchen of Bly Manor was silent, save for a clock ticking on the wall, driving Jamie slowly insane. Her heart was thrumming in her chest, the starch of her collared shirt itching at her throat. She should have chosen a blouse, something more feminine, instead of the slacks and grey button up she wore. Who knew what the Wingraves would think of her? They might take one look at her and send her home, not wanting their grounds cared for by a dy-

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Tayler!"

Jamie practically leapt out of her seat, almost knocking the chair over. Charlotte Wingrave swept into the room like a breeze on a warm day, her smile lighting up the kitchen and making the corners of Jamie's lips pull up of their own accord. She reached across the table to shake Jamie's hand, and Jamie found herself resisting the ridiculous urge to pull Charlotte's hand towards her to kiss her knuckles. Charlotte Wingrave, with her dark hair, her kind eyes, and her easy elegance, seemed to inspire the chivalrous side of Jamie's nature. It had been the same the first time they met, when Jamie called on the manor to answer the ad for a new gardener.

"Don't worry about it," Jamie said. And cleared her throat. "I wasn't waiting long. And please, call me Jamie."

"Well, thank you, Jamie" Charlotte settled herself in the seat opposite. "I do try to be on time, but, with two young children, the day does get away from you."

"I can only imagine, ma'am," Jamie replied, sitting back down. "I knew a pair of kids once, right pair of wee gremlins they-"

She stopped, furrowing her brow. She had never known any children, had none of her own, and didn't know anyone with kids. She wasn't sure what had made her say that, but fortunately, Charlotte didn't pursue the tangent.

"Now, you told me you were interested in the gardener position when you dropped by the other day," Charlotte said, hands folding in front of her. "The letter you wrote was excellent, and you seem to have plenty of experience. So tell me, what interests you about the job?"

"Oh, well," Jamie sat up a little straighter, trying to ignore her sweaty palms. "I've been working as a labourer for a landscaping company in London. Worked on a lot of different gardens, all over the city." She paused, trying to work out how to say the next part. "If I'm honest, I wanted to get out to the countryside. London is a bit fast-paced for me, even with growing plants, and I've been wanting to slow down. It's like," Jamie hands came up, like she was trying to pull the words out of the air, "people there don't understand that growth takes time. I thought somewhere like this," she gestured vaguely, "somewhere with so much history, so much growth over time, I thought, somewhere like that, the people might just get it."

She held her breath, hoping she hadn't put Charlotte off with her speech. But Charlotte was smiling, and nodding along. Jamie felt herself smile back.

"Very good," Charlotte said, voice warm and approving. "Now, with this position, you would be responsible for the upkeep of the entire grounds. Does that sound like something you're comfortable with?"

"More than comfortable," Jamie replied. "Sounds wonderful to me. I like the idea of caring for something like that, keeping it happy and healthy."

"Excellent." Charlotte beamed, and Jamie blinked. For an instant, a different face had beamed at her from across the table; a beautiful face, with blue eyes and blonde hair, and a smile that tugged at Jamie's heart. But she must have imagined it, because a moment later, it was just Charlotte again.

She realized Charlotte had said something that she'd missed, and Jamie leaned forward.

"Sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

"Oh, apologies." Charlotte cleared her throat. "I asked, how did you start gardening?"

Oh.

Jamie hesitated, casting her eyes away from Charlotte's face, her own falling. Here it was. She could lie, and hope Charlotte never found out. Or she could tell the truth.

"Well, I got into it because-" Jamie stopped, and sighed, shoulders drooping. For the first time, she avoided Charlotte's gaze. "Honestly, the garden was one of the work rotations I was given in prison."

She risked a glance. Charlotte's smile had faded, replaced with a furrowed brow. She nodded to Jamie to continue.

"I had never so much as picked up a spade before," Jamie admitted. "But when they put me in that garden, it was like something…settled. It was hard work, and it kept my mind quiet. There were other women there I learned from, and when I got out, one of them helped me find my job in London. Haven't looked back since."

She let herself meet Charlotte's eyes, fully expecting to find disapproval and disappointment there. Instead, she found the older woman was looking at her thoughtfully, finger tapping her chin. Jamie shifted uncomfortably, a sliver of hope blooming in her chest.

"You know, Jamie," Charlotte said kindly. "I think of myself as a great judge of character."

Jamie said nothing, just nodded.

"After all," Charlotte sat back in her chair, waving her hand as if to indicate the entire manor. "I hired Hannah Grose. And that woman is a miracle, let me tell you."

Despite herself, a small smile quirked Jamie's lips. She had briefly met Mrs. Grose on her way in, and could tell right away that she would get on well with the housekeeper.

If she got the job, which didn't look likely in that moment.

"So you see," Charlotte continued. "I knew straight away when you walked in that I would hire you, and I'm not one to distrust my gut feelings."

"I understand, Lady Wingrave, I-" Jamie stopped. "Wait, I'm sorry?"

"Jamie," Charlotte said patiently. "Will you be able to care for the garden and grounds of Bly Manor?"

"Yes," Jamie said, hardly daring to breathe.

"Then that's all I need to know," Charlotte smiled at her. "Your reference from your former employer is impeccable, and the experience you outlined in your cover letter lends me the utmost confidence that you are the perfect candidate for the gardener position. When can you start?"

"I-" Jamie's brain stuttered. She swallowed. "When do you need me, ma'am?"

"Right away, if possible," Charlotte said, standing up and smoothing down her skirt. "Of course, you're still living in London, I take it? You can stay in one of the rooms here until you find your own place. Don't worry, I'll help you."

"Thank you," Jamie stood up as well, eyes wide, hardly daring to believe what had just happened. "Ma'am, I -"

"Your past is your past, Jamie," Charlotte said. "Let's live in the present, shall we?"

She held out her hand to shake again, and Jamie took it, beaming from ear to ear. But when she went to drop the hand, Charlotte didn't let go.

"Uh, Lady Win-"

The words died in Jamie's throat, replaced with a strangled gasp. Charlotte Wingrave had disappeared, and instead, a monster stood in front of her. A woman, in a white nightdress, dripping wet from head to toe, her long dark hair hanging like weeds over her shoulders. And her face, her face-

She had no face. No eyes. No nose. Only a wide, gaping mouth.

Jamie tore her hand away, gasping, scrambling back, hitting the wall, as the creature stepped forward, hands reaching, reaching, reaching-

"Let's get out of here," a voice whispered in her ear. Jamie turned, finding herself inches from the blonde woman she thought she'd seen earlier, a grin on her lips, blue eyes twinkling. The woman laced their fingers together, and tugged-

* * *

_September 1987_

"How the hell is it so hot?" Jamie whined, letting herself be pulled along the street. "I didn't think America would be this hot."

"You're a baby," Dani said. "A giant baby. I can't believe how much of a baby you're being."

"I miss the rain," Jamie said.

"You hate the rain."

"Do not. Rain is lovely. Waters the plants for me. Gives me a nice break."

Dani laughed, and Jamie grinned. That was the best sound in the world, right there. Dani Clayton's laugh. She could spend the rest of her life making Dani laugh.

With that thought, she tugged on Dani's hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"Jamie," Dani started, voice threatening annoyance. But she was smiling as Jamie pulled her in, kissing her soundly and sliding her fingers through blonde hair. Dani let out a happy sigh, other hand landing on Jamie's hip, pulling her closer-

"Fuckin' Dykes!"

The shout came from a passing car, and Jamie tore herself away from Dani to flip them off and yell some obscenity back. Dani shook her head, scowling.

"It's not worth it, Jamie," she said dully.

"So much for San Francisco being gay friendly," Jamie grumbled, as the two started walking again.

"There's always gonna be assholes," Dani told her. She took Jamie's hand again, slotting her fingers together like they'd been doing it all their lives, not just a couple of months. "But come on, we've faced down ghosts. Homophobes've got nothing."

"I'd still like to punch their lights out," Jamie said, glaring in the direction of the car. But she hadn't missed the quip about Bly Manor. Were they really at a point where they could joke about it?

She didn't get a chance to ask, though, because suddenly Dani was pulling her along again, their leisurely stroll turning into a brisk clip. Jamie let herself be led, content to watch Dani's hair flutter in the breeze, Dani's earrings glint in the sunlight, Dani's ass swaying in her jeans-

"Here we are!"

Without Jamie noticing, lovestruck as she was, they had gone through a parking lot and over sand dunes, and now the deep, white-capped blue of the Pacific Ocean stretched out in front of them, with no end in sight.

"Oh," Jamie breathed. "Oh, wow."

This time it was her leading the way, Dani trailing behind her, their hands still clasped together loosely. Jamie had never seen the Pacific before; had grown up with the Atlantic in driving distance, but hadn't had a real reason to spend much time there. She had always been anchored to the earth, never the sea, but the vast expanse before her took her breath away. It was all part of the natural world that Jamie loved, that she surrounded herself with and took care of. Just a different part.

"Poppins," Jamie said, unable to keep the awe from her voice. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," Dani said, sounding strangely far away, and Jamie knew if she turned her head, she would see Dani gazing at her adoringly, like a scene out of a bad romance movie. And once upon a time, she had. She had turned her head, had met Dani's gaze, had pulled her forwards and nearly kissed her, but stopped at the last minute, remembering the shout from the street. Had instead turned on her heel and raced down towards the water, dragging a laughing Dani behind her, and plunged in, not caring they were in their clothes, trying to wash away a memory of another plunge into cold water.

She knew she had done all of that, once. She could taste the salt on her tongue, feel the chill of the water on her skin. But here, now, in this moment, her eyes had landed on something in the water, and her entire body had frozen, standing at the edge of the surf. The sun seemed to suddenly hide behind a cloud, and an ill wind whipped Jamie's curls around her head.

"Dani," she said. "Dani, do you see that?"

There was no answer. Jamie turned, only to find Dani gone. In fact, the beach was empty now. Jamie was alone.

Well. Not completely alone.

Slowly, she looked back at the water. The creature stood, waist-deep, eyeless face turned in her direction. It did not seem to notice the waves, or the wind that now gusted, and it did not move. Jamie fought the urge to run, terrified that any movement would cause the thing to come after her. Why was it here? Why was it just standing there? Why wasn't it at the bottom of that lake where it had dragged Dani-

Wait.

Unbidden, Jamie took a step forward. The water soaked her shoes immediately, washing up and over her ankles. Another step, and it was at the cuffs of her jeans now, shoes sinking into the sand. Another, and another, and another, until she was standing up to her knees, entire body trembling, staring at the The Lady in the Lake with wide eyes.

"I'm supposed to be doing something," Jamie said to her. "I'm here for a reason."

The Lady in the Lake said nothing.

"It's there, on the tip of my tongue." Jamie let out a frustrated breath. "At the back of my brain. Just-"

* * *

_October 2000_

Her clothes were still wet when she arrived back at the hotel room. She stripped them almost as soon as the door closed, and stumbled into the shower, standing under the spray and staring at the wall. She only turned it off when the water turned cold, and she was pretty sure there were no more tears in her eyes. She towelled herself off, and dug through the little overnight bag she'd thrown together haphazardly as she rushed out the door an eternity earlier.

Rushed out the door after Dani, who had been long gone by then.

She hadn't packed any sleep shorts in her hurry, so she threw on some underwear, and an old shirt. The scent of it hit her immediately, and a fresh wave of tears started to fall. It was an old shirt of Dani's. One she'd worn a million times, even after the armpits were getting a bit threadbare.

Dani, who was lying at the bottom of a lake.

She went through the motions of getting ready for bed. She didn't have a toothbrush, so she just rinsed her mouth out with water, and splashed her face. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror - red-eyed, pale-faced - and paused, staring. Hoping against hope that another face would appear. Like had happened so often back home, in their little apartment, when Dani looked in a mirror, or into water, or into a pane of glass. Maybe Jamie's cry in the lake had worked, and maybe instead of that monster she would see-

 _Just let me have this_ , Jamie thought, not taking her eyes off her own reflection. _It's you, it's me, it's us_. _Let me have this, Dani._

But nothing appeared, and Jamie shut the light of the bathroom off, and climbed into bed.

She didn't sleep. To sleep meant two things. First, it meant waking up again, into another day in a world where Dani wasn't. Where Jamie was just expected to keep living her life without her wife by her side. What would she even do? Go home? To their little apartment filled with memories? To the flower shop? Keep living the little life they had built together? Alone?

How could she be expected to do that?

Sleep also meant dreams, and Jamie was possibly more frightened of that than waking up. Dreaming could mean seeing Dani again, whether alive and happy, or dead, staring at her with lifeless eyes at the bottom of a lake. Neither option was appealing in the slightest, so Jamie lay awake, staring at the clock as it ticked towards midnight.

She deemed 5 o'clock in the morning as good a time as any to wake up. Or at least, get out of bed, as waking up implied she had slept at all. She supposed she would go to the airport, and get on a plane back to Vermont, decide what to do from there. Dani would want her to keep going.

It was as she mechanically got ready to leave that she found it. Dani's note, folded up with her passport, thrown in her bag along with anything else she thought she might need. It had fallen out when she changed, and for a moment, Jamie just gazed at it. Then, she knelt down, and opened it with trembling fingers, reading the last words Dani had left her.

_Jamie,_

_The beast has come for me. Viola is calling, and I have to answer, or I don't know what could happen. I can't risk that anything would happen to you, my most important person. I love you. I'm so sorry._

_Dani_

If only she had woken up. If only she had stopped her. Convinced her that it was ok, that they would figure it out together. If only she had been able to figure out a solution before Viola took her. If only Owen had driven a little faster that night, thirteen years ago. If only she had run a little faster towards the lake. If only she had stayed the night when Dani asked. If only, if only, if -

Viola?

Jamie frowned as she scanned the note, the name standing out to her as strange, unknown. Viola? Who was Viola? Where had that come from?

Water dripped on the carpet in front of her. Jamie found herself looking at mud-covered feet, eyes tracing a soaking wet nightdress up until they reached a face - that terrible, terrible face.

She felt like she should scream. Scream and run from the room. Or better yet, attack the monster and hope she could get a few good licks in before it dragged her down too.

But she didn't.

Jamie stood slowly, hand still clutching the note, staring at the creature in front of her. It did nothing. Simply stood, as though waiting for Jamie to make the first move.

And so, Jamie did.

"Viola?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of the chapter comes from something and you get a prize if you guess


	2. the pitiless wave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Dani and Jamie did not lose touch with the Wingraves! Otherwise this fic would fall apart immediately. so. here we go.

_And I hold within my hand  
_ _Grains of the golden sand-  
_ _How few! yet how they creep  
_ _Through my fingers to the deep,  
_ _While I weep- while I weep!  
_ _O God! can I not grasp  
_ _Them with a tighter clasp?  
_ _O God! can I not save  
_ _One from the pitiless wave?_

_\- Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream_

_December 1996_

"Jamie?"

"Hm?" Jamie turned away from the window, where she had been gazing out at the way the Christmas lights lit up the newly fallen snow. Henry Wingrave always went all out with Christmas lights, decorating not only his big Massachusetts house, but the trees and hedges of the ridiculously large property as well. It was as though his determination to make up that lost year to his niece and nephew had been channelled into twinkling reds and greens, yellows and blues, and at least one blow up snowman, which Flora still loved, even at 17 years of age.

Said 17-year-old was looking at her now, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, eyebrows raised. Jamie didn't think she would ever stop seeing the little girl she had first met, even as Flora looked more and more like Charlotte Wingrave with every passing day.

"Sorry, Flora," Jamie said, taking the proffered hot chocolate. "Just lost in thought, I guess."

"Uncle Henry's lights have been known to hypnotize many a fool who wanders this way at night," Flora said, sounding older than she was, just as her brother had, once upon a time. "We find them in the spring, wandering in the forest."

Jamie snorted. "You went from strange little girl to strange teenager, you know that?"

Flora shrugged, sitting down on the couch in front of the fireplace. "Normal is overrated."

Jamie had heard Flora and Miles' accents change over the course of the past nine years, between phone calls and visits and VHS tapes sent in the mail of dance recitals and school plays. Dani had almost let the little family drop out of touch, but in the end, hadn't been able to resist when Flora called on her ninth birthday asking why Dani hadn't answered her invitation. Still, the change was jarring sometimes, especially when she had been so lost in the past a moment before.

Or had she? She was certain she had been thinking back on some memory, but what it was exactly escaped her.

"Am I going to have to look for you in the woods come Spring?" Flora asked, an amused expression on her face. "Where do you keep going?"

"Just remembering when you were little," Jamie said. "And Dani made you do all the weeding for the day, and I got to sit and drink gin and tonic. Christ, I should have told her I'd marry her right then and there."

"I could tell you liked her, you know," Flora said, eyes dancing in the firelight. "From the moment you first saw her."

"Flora, you were eight," Jamie said. "How could you possibly tell?"

"You're not denying it!"

"Denying it?" Jamie laughed. "Dani and I have been together for nine years, I think we're well past denying it." The glint of her ring caught both of their eyes, and Jamie felt a stupid grin spread across her face at the sight. "You didn't answer the question, little miss trouble."

Flora giggled, for a moment looking like that little girl Jamie saw in her mind's eye. "Well, maybe it wasn't the moment you first saw her. You were pretty rude to her, actually."

Jamie gasped, affronted. "I didn't even say anything to her!"

"Exactly!" Flora pointed at her triumphantly. "You were terribly rude."

A trace of the British accent she had left behind long ago was in her words. Jamie couldn't help but smile as she sipped her hot chocolate.

"Alright then," she said. "How and when could you tell I liked your dear au pair?"

"You stayed the night because she was scared," Flora said simply. "You'd never stayed the night at the manor before."

Jamie frowned, thinking back to that night. The thought that Peter Fucking Quint might be lurking around the grounds had made her blood boil, and really, there had been no question of her and Owen sticking around. It hadn't really been because of Dani, though Jamie remembered the way Dani's eyes had looked, shining in the darkness as they walked the grounds together, wide and scared and determined all at once. Remembered the relieved expression they took on when Owen suggested staying. Remembered how she hadn't even hesitated to stay when she saw the way Dani's shoulders relaxed.

And Jamie had been convinced Dani was straight, then. Who the hell knew?

"I used to think it was because of the ghosts," Flora was saying, bringing Jamie slamming back into the present and making her choke on her hot chocolate.

"S-sorry," she coughed. "I'm sorry. Did you say ghosts?"

"Yep," Flora looked towards the fire, thoughtful. "I know that's silly now, because there's no such thing as ghosts, right? But I remember thinking 'ah, Jamie must be scared of the ghosts. That's why she never stays for dinner.'"

Jamie blinked. Flora and Miles, she was certain, did not remember the events at Bly. Whatever happened in children's minds to protect them from trauma had taken hold, and all of the fear and strangeness of that summer had faded away. But could Flora possibly remember, somewhere, in the back of her mind?

"I used to have an imaginary friend there, you know," Flora said. "A little boy. I thought he was a ghost, because he didn't have a face-" Jamie's sharp inhale went unnoticed. "- and he scared me so badly I went running to Mum. Uncle Henry was there too, I remember." An odd expression passed over her, but she shook her head, as if to rid herself of it. "Anyway, I showed them where I'd seen him, and I told them I was scared, and Uncle Henry, well, he did his Uncle Henry thing and made me feel better."

"Oh?" Jamie asked, hardly breathing.

"Yeah," Flora laughed. "He told me to give the little boy a story, and a name, and maybe then he wouldn't seem so scary." She looked at Jamie, grinning. "He's always full of little pearls of wisdom like that, you know."

"Yeah," Jamie said, voice faint. Her heart was thundering in her ears, but not because Flora was talking about ghosts.

No, it was because standing behind Flora, silent and looming, was The Lady in the Lake.

"Is that what you want?" Jamie asked. "Is that why I'm here?"

The Lady in the Lake said nothing. Jamie leaned over and set her mug down on the coffee table. It disappeared as she did, along with Flora, lost to whatever new memory was coming. The living room was falling apart around her, lights going out one by one, walls crumbling, floor cracking and disintegrating into darkness.

"Your name," Jamie said, struggling to pull herself up straight on the couch. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, bogged down by a life time of memories crashing about her all at once, fighting to be the next to play out. "I know your name."

The Lady of the Lake loomed ever closer, closer, closer, and Jamie-

* * *

_June 1987_

Sleeping on a couch wasn't fun at the best of times, and sleeping on an antique couch in overalls was downright traumatic. There was an ache at the back of Jamie's neck as she opened her eyes, woken up by what she thought were footsteps receding behind her. She lifted her head, glancing over the back of the couch, into the empty foyer.

Must be the ghost.

She chuckled at the thought, and levered herself up, stretching her arms and shoulders. Massaging at the crick in her neck, she headed towards the bathroom just off the kitchen, taking the time to splash a little water on her face before heading back out.

The kitchen wasn't empty. Dani stood at the centre island, back to the stove, frowning down at a teapot and teacup. Jamie felt her breath catch in her throat, taking in Dani's long blonde hair and the way it fell partially in front of her face; the way her nose scrunched up in frustration; the way her fingers tapped against the counter-top.

Dani was beautiful, and Jamie would be lying if she said she hadn't noticed it. She had seen it on that very first day, when she'd walked into the kitchen and felt any introduction she was about to make stop short in her chest. _Ah, there you are_ , were the words that had floated across her mind, and the feeling had only strengthened since. Like Dani was meant to be there, in her life, and Jamie had just been patiently waiting until she arrived. Even as she tried to keep some distance, sure Dani was as straight as they come, her every heart beat seemed to repeat those words she had first felt when she had seen Dani.

_Ah, there you are._

"Something the matter with the tea?" Jamie asked, settling herself into the bar stool closest to the au pair.

"Jamie!" Dani looked up, eyes widening in surprise. "Hi, uh, I was-" she glanced down at the pot of tea. "I was making you tea."

Her last words came out in a murmur, and were accompanied by a light blush on her cheeks. Jamie tried to suppress a grin.

"You were making me tea?" She asked, feeling inordinately pleased at the thought. "Just me? Not Owen or Hannah? Or the kids?"

"They're sleeping," Dani pointed out.

"So was I, until a few minutes ago." The grin couldn't be suppressed.

Dani ducked her head. "You said once you're an early riser, and I saw you on the couch and thought - you know what, whatever, if you don't want any-"

"I didn't say that!" Jamie held up her hands. "I'd love some tea."

Dani narrowed her eyes at her, but a small smile broke through, and she pushed the teacup in Jamie's direction.

"Not even gonna ask how I take it?" Jamie raised an eyebrow. "Such confidence."

"Um," said Dani, smile fading as Jamie took a sip.

And immediately spat it back out.

"Poppins," she said, voice deadly serious, setting the teacup down. "Are you trying to poison me?"

"I'm sorry," Dani rushed out, covering her eyes with her hand. "I'm shit at tea. Miles tried to give me pointers, but I can't seem to get it right. I just - it was so nice of you to stay last night, and I wanted to do something to thank you, and British people like tea! So I thought I would make you tea, but I'm so bad at it, I knew it was a terrible idea."

Jamie waited for the end of the word tsunami, desperately trying to keep a straight face. Finally, though, Dani peeked at her through her fingers, and she couldn't stop herself, dissolving into laughter.

"Well, that's just mean," Dani said, dropping her hand from her face. Her indignant expression caused Jamie to laugh harder.

"Sorry," she said, calming herself down. "I'm sorry. It's not even that funny."

"I just wanted to do something nice," Dani muttered, looking back down at the tea and pouting.

Jamie took a deep breath, and ran her fingers through her curls. She closed her eyes, centring herself, and so missed Dani looking up at her, eyes widening and mouth parting slightly in an inaudible gasp. By the time she opened them again, Dani's gaze had averted, and she was none the wiser.

"Ok, how about I give you a lesson, then?" Jamie asked. She stood up, picking up the pot and the cup, making her way to the sink where she dumped out both.

Dani watched her, perplexed. "A lesson?"

"On the proper way to make tea." Jamie searched out the second teapot, not trusting the first not to retain the contamination of Dani's disastrous attempt, as well as two teacups. "Per Jamie Taylor, tea-making prodigy."

"A prodigy?" Dani turned, leaning her hip against the counter, arms crossed. "I didn't realize I was in the presence of such genius."

"I keep it to myself, mostly," Jamie said, shrugging. She filled up the kettle and set it on the stove to boil. "Now first, we boil water."

"And then what?" Dani asked, amusement lighting up her face in a way that made Jamie want to swoon.

"One thing at a time," Jamie said. "That's your problem, you Americans, always rushing about. Tea takes time."

"I see." Dani glanced at the kettle, then back at Jamie. She seemed to be struggling with the silence that had fallen between them, though Jamie found it quite comfortable. She tilted her head. "So, no change of clothes, huh?"

"Nah," Jamie looked down at herself. "I rushed out of my flat pretty quick last night when Hannah phoned. Hated the thought of Pete wandering the grounds, probably flattening all my flowers. On purpose, knowing him."

"Yeah, that would be the worst thing he could do," Dani said drily. She was quiet for a moment, opening her mouth to talk, but startling at the whistle of the kettle.

Jamie quickly removed it from the burner, setting it aside. She turned to her teapot, and added teabags.

"Two teabags, huh?" Dani asked.

"More or less depending on how strong you like it." Jamie grabbed the kettle and poured the boiling water in. "Two to a pot is pretty reasonable though." She set the kettle aside, and placed the lid on the teapot. "Now, we let it steep."

"Steep?"

"So it'll actually taste like something," Jamie said. "And not just milky water with a bit of sugar."

"Ah," Dani peered at the teapot. "That makes sense." She smiled a somewhat embarrassed smile. "I didn't realize you had to do that."

"Which resulted in you almost killing me," Jamie said.

"I didn't almost kill you-"

"I saw me life flash before me eyes, I did."

Dani snorted, and looked away. Silence fell again, and Jamie took the moment to just look at Dani. She studied her profile, traced the contours of her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, down her neck, along her collarbones. Something tugged at her, insistently. A feeling that she had forgotten something, nagging in the back of her mind, like when you're not sure you locked the door before leaving in the morning.

"Where do you live, anyway?"

Jamie blinked, surprised at the question. It must have shown on her face, because Dani blushed and looked away.

"Sorry," she said. "I mean, I know you live in Bly, obviously. But where in Bly? Not that it'll mean much to me, since I've never been into town. But I was just curious, I guess."

"S'alright," Jamie said, smiling at her. "I live near the centre of the village, actually. In a flat above the local pub. Takes me about twenty minutes to drive here."

"Oh!" Dani considered this. "What's it like living above a pub?"

Jamie thought for a moment. "Not terrible," she said finally. "Not ideal either. I can pop down and get a drink whenever I want, but then I can hear everything going on down there all night. It's not exactly busy, but some nights they have live music, or it's a Saturday and things are getting rowdy." She shrugged. "It was almost a blessing staying here last night, with the silence." She rubbed the back of her neck again. "The couch was torture though."

"Well," said Dani. "Next time you stay over, we'll make sure you get a bed."

"You offering, Poppins?" Jamie asked, delighted at the way Dani's ears turned bright red. "Nah, I'm sure you'd rather our resident chef."

She made her way over to the fridge, pulling out milk and setting it on the counter, goosebumps prickling her arms as she felt Dani's eyes on her. Distance, she thought, was best.

"No," said Dani, voice so low Jamie almost didn't hear her. "I don't think I would."

Jamie turned to her a little too fast, almost dropping the sugar bowl. Dani was watching her, arms still crossed, expression soft. Jamie felt a surge of…something towards this woman. Something deep and all-consuming, something that was impossible for her to be feeling, given how short a time she had known her. But it was there, an ache in her chest, painful and wonderful and too much.

The sugar bowl fell to the ground, shattering.

"Jamie?" Dani asked, pushing herself off the counter, concern colouring her features. "Jamie, what's wrong?"

It was only now Jamie felt the tears tracking down her cheeks, blurring her vision as she stared at Dani, whose eyes were wide with shock, her mouth moving as she asked Jamie what was going on, what was wrong, what could she do?

Jamie heard none of it, only gazed steadily at her dead wife.

"God, I miss you," she said.

Dani's face was stricken. Jamie took a few stumbling steps forward, cupping Dani's blurred face.

"I wish you were real," she whispered. "I wish this wasn't just a memory. I wish-"

She stopped when she saw Dani's eye-line shift.

Over her shoulder.

Slowly, she turned around. And gasped, stepping back involuntarily, into the space Dani had just now vanished from.

The Lady in the Lake stepped with her, eyeless face filling Jamie's vision. She raised her hands towards Jamie's neck, and Jamie shut her own eyes, readying herself for those cold, clammy fingers to wrap around her neck.

Instead, she felt them wipe at her cheeks.

Jamie opened her eyes again, heart pounding, as the Lady in the Lake wiped her tears. It didn't really help, since her hands were damp from their watery home, but there was a certain clumsy gentleness there. Like this was something the Lady had done before, but not for a very, very long time.

As she stood there, utterly terrified, Jamie became aware of another noise beyond her own shuddering breaths. There was a sound coming out of the Lady's throat, guttural, animalistic. She seemed to be trying to say something.

All at once, Jamie remembered.

Carefully, she raised her own hand to cover the Lady's at her face, curling her fingers around it and bringing it down, squeezing. She swallowed, fighting past her fear, and brought her other hand up, trembling, to touch the Lady's waxlike face.

"Viola," she said quietly. "Your name is Viola Lloyd. Do you remember?"

The noise from the Lady's throat changed, slightly. Jamie dropped her hand to the one holding the Lady's, and squeezed, almost encouragingly.

And finally, finally, the noise that came out of the Lady's throat wasn't just a meaningless sound anymore.

"Vi…ola…"


	3. dearly departed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple of notes before we begin!
> 
> First: I work in a museum in Canada and am an archivist by training, and currently, wearing gloves to handle documents is not the practice - the cotton catches on the paper and could do more harm than good. However, I have a vague awareness that before my time, gloves WERE used, and a very, very quick google search seemed to confirm it, so I had Jamie wear gloves. If I'm wrong I'm happy to take it out! (as a sidenote, if you're handling photographic material, prints or negatives, you SHOULD wear gloves! The more you know!) 
> 
> Second: thank you to everyone who has left kudos or commented. You make my day!

_But even when one is dead and gone  
_ _It still takes two to make a house a home  
_ _Well I'm as lonesome as the catacombs  
_ _I hear you call my name but no one's there_

_\- The Shakey Graves, "Dearly Departed"_

_February 2001_

"I think this is what you're looking for, Mrs. Clayton."

A plain clamshell box was placed gingerly in front of Jamie, the cardboard corners worn from being pushed and pulled to and fro a shelf for years. The archivist, a young blond woman with round-framed glasses, opened it carefully, and thumbed through the files. She glanced at Jamie, smiling uncertainly.

"It's not a lot," she said. "400 year old papers are fragile, and well, it's a miracle some of these have survived this long. We don't have the same kind of money for conservation as the big places. But this is what we have of the Lloyd papers."

"Right," Jamie stared at the box, apprehension brewing in her belly. She flexed her fingers against the foldable plastic table the archivist had set up for her, wedged in a corner of the tiny museum office. "So, have I got to wear gloves or something?"

"Oh, yes!" the archivist produced a pair of white cotton gloves, and laid them on the table next to box. "Now, these papers have survived pretty well, but they are fragile."

"Should I be worried about them crumbling in my hands?" Jamie asked.

"Nothing like that," the archivist shrugged. "They could tear though. Just be careful."

"Will do." Jamie pulled the gloves on.

"If you need anything, I'll be just over here," the archivist said, indicating the desk in the opposite corner.

"Thank you."

The archivist nodded, and made her way over to sit at her desk, sparing one last curious glance at her visitor. Jamie got the impression that this little museum and archives, hidden as it was in a tiny village in Devon, didn't really get all that many researchers. Especially ones specifically asking to see the papers of one Arthur Lloyd, whose trail she had been following like a dog with a bone for three months now.

She had started with one name - Viola. A Viola who had lived - and died - at Bly Manor, at some point in its long, dark past. It had seemed an impossibly thin lead, so she had called up Henry Wingrave, hoping he knew something of the history of his country home. He hadn't, not really, and Jamie was left to wonder if this was a fool's errand.

Until Flora had called.

"Uncle Henry said you were looking into the history of Bly Manor," she had said. "Specifically someone called Viola?"

"Yeah," Jamie had replied. "But he didn't know anything."

"No, he's not one for history," Flora had chuckled. "But that name sounded familiar. So I went looking through some of my old things, and guess what!"

"Flora."

"I have an old grave rubbing with that name on it! First name, last name, birth and death dates."

"Flora," Jamie had nearly dropped the phone in her excitement. "That's amazing!"

"I can send you a picture by e-mail?"

Jamie had blanched. "Can't you just tell me what it says?"

"Luddite."

And that conversation had led her to Viola Lloyd, born 1645, died 1680, who had lived at Bly Manor for the entirety of her short life, and had died and been buried there. From there, she was able to visit the local parish records office, and find a marriage record between one Arthur Lloyd and Viola Willoughby, in 1674. There hadn't been much else on Viola, but there was another marriage record for Arthur Lloyd, seven years later, to a Perdita Willoughby.

Scandalous.

Perdita had died too, according to the death record Jamie had found in the same Parish office. Plus, there had been a christening for a Lloyd baby in 1675, though the child's first name had been rendered illegible by the intervening years.

That had been it for the Parish records, but Jamie had something else now. Arthur Lloyd. A merchant, according to his marriage records. Born somewhere around 1640, but not buried at Bly Manor, or in the Parish cemetery. He'd probably left after the death of his second wife, then. But to where?

And that was the question that had led Jamie here, to this tiny museum. It hadn't been easy, and Jamie wasn't a natural researcher. But she was smart, and determined, and when the man at the National Archives had informed her he couldn't find any primary sources on Arthur Lloyd in the collection, but had found an obscure reference to a merchant named Lloyd in a book written in 1973 about the history of a little farming community in South Devon, well. Jamie had followed the lead, and been rewarded for her efforts.

Gingerly, she pulled out the first file, and flipped it open. The papers inside were yellowed, the handwriting looping and nearly impossible to read. Jamie sighed, glanced at the archivist again, and pulled her reading glasses out of her jacket pocket.

"I love when you wear those," Dani said from the other side of the table, resting her cheek on one hand, gazing at Jamie adoringly.

"I've had 'em for two years," Jamie replied, eyes scanning the pages in the front of her. "Thought you'd be used to it by now."

"You look so cute with them on."

"They make me feel old."

This file seemed to be mostly pages from Lloyd's ledgers, listing his business dealings, his trading in tobacco and spices and fine linens. Jamie's brow knotted together in concentration as she made her way through the rest of the pages.

"All good over here?"

Jamie looked up at the archivist, who stood in the spot Dani had been sitting, moments before.

"All good," she said. "I'll, uh, probably be a while, yeah?"

"Oh, of course!" The archivist smiled. "We're open until five. You're welcome to stay until then if you need to."

"Thanks," Jamie said, and took the next files from the box, wordlessly dismissing the archivist.

"You could be nicer," Dani chided from behind her.

"I'm busy," Jamie replied.

"She's just trying to be helpful."

Jamie sighed, and leaned forward, adjusting her glasses.

This file was more of the same, for the most part. And the next one was a deed to a cottage just outside the little village, as well as a few household expenses. Jamie tried not to feel frustrated.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," she said, placing the file back in the box, and pulling the next one out.

"You'll know when you find it," Dani replied, voice more distant than it had been before.

Jamie paused, and looked back at Dani, who stood against the wall, smiling encouragingly. There was something off about her, and it took Jamie a moment to understand.

"You're fading," she said.

Dani blinked, and tilted her head, a frown appearing on her face. Confusion flashed through her eyes, and she glanced around, then focused back on Jamie

"Jamie," she said. "Where-?"

And she was gone.

Jamie's shoulders slumped, and she turned back to her table. The file in front of her was thicker than the others, and Jamie was extra careful opening it. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the first page.

"Here we go," she whispered to herself.

Letters. Dozens of letters, spanning just as many years, from one Jonathan Lloyd, Vicar in Essex, to his brother Arthur, Merchant in Devon. As Jamie read through them, taking notes on a little notepad she'd brought, a puzzle began to take shape. So many pieces were missing, but there was a solid outline, as Jonathan asked after Arthur's ill wife, Viola; solemnly comforted him at her death; congratulated him on his second marriage; counselled him on his money problems; offered advice and support as Arthur decided to move away from Bly Manor; lamented how fast children grow as Arthur's daughter married a man called Norton.

A sound from behind her; someone shifting against the wall. A rustle of fabric, the squelch of mud against the floor, and a few drops of water hitting wood.

"Do you remember?" Jamie asked, not turning around. "Do you remember him?"

Wet footsteps moved forward, stopping right behind Jamie's right shoulder. A water droplet hit her notebook, and Jamie caught a glimpse of long black hair from the corner of her eye, as Viola leaned forward.

"His name was Arthur," Jamie continued. "He was your husband."

A low, guttural keening bubbled up from the woman at Jamie's shoulder, soft at first, but growing louder. Jamie whipped her head around, eyes widening as she saw the woman leaning over her shoulder. Her face was different than before, more human. Still no eyes, but the outline of her nose and brow was stronger, her mouth less a hole in her face as lips were now visible. A hand clutched at Jamie's shoulder as the keening reached a crescendo, and Jamie reeled from the rush of anguish that followed it. Memories of love and happiness, followed by betrayal and anger and bitterness, flitting through her as her vision turned black.

* * *

_May 1995_

The hand on Jamie's shoulder made her jump, and she nearly knocked the pan off the stove as she turned around. Dani shot her an amused smile, letting her hand slide down Jamie's arm. Her other arm wrapped around Jamie's waist, as she pressed herself against her fiancée and chuckled.

"Jumpy this morning?" She asked, leaning in to kiss Jamie on the cheek and rest her chin on her shoulder. "Mmm, bacon?"

"And eggs, and sausages, and beans, and mushrooms, and tomatoes, and toast." Jamie grinned that cocksure grin that Dani loved. "You're getting a full English this morning."

"You already had me full of English last night," Dani said, nuzzling under Jamie's ear.

Jamie groaned. "That was terrible. That doesn't even make sense."

"I'm loopy," Dani defended herself. "Because I love you. And I'm going to marry you."

"Oh?" Jamie put the spatula down, and turned in Dani's arms. She settled her arms on Dani's shoulders, and leaned in for a kiss.

"You'll burn the bacon," Dani mumbled against her lips, smiling, even as her fingers slipped beneath Jamie's shirt, skirting along her hips.

"You like burnt bacon," Jamie replied, dotting kisses along Dani's jaw.

"Do I?" Dani pulled back, eyebrow raised. "Or is it the only kind of bacon you know how to make?"

"Dani," Jamie whined, as Dani took a step back, a smirk on her face.

"I don't think I should distract you right now," Dani said, voice light. "You have to concentrate on not burning the apartment down."

"That's not fair!" But Jamie was already turning back to her pan, realizing that, indeed, the bacon was in danger of burning. Beside her, Dani poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Do you need my help?" She asked, taking a sip.

"No, no." Jamie waved her away. "You go sit down. I'm making you breakfast."

"Whatever you say," Dani said, shrugging and making her way over to the kitchen island. She sat down on the other side, hands encircling her coffee mug as she watched Jamie move around the kitchen.

"This is literally the only thing I know I can make well," Jamie said. She paused, and her voice was quiet for her next words. "My Dad used to make it for us, when he was home, rare as that was."

"I didn't know that,' Dani said, voice soft and careful.

Jamie hummed. "He used to burn the bacon too."

"Well," Dani tapped her fingers against her mug. "Maybe burnt bacon isn't so bad."

Jamie shot her a grin, and the couple lapsed into comfortable silence. Dani drank her coffee, enjoying the sight of Jamie working, the smell of sizzling food, and the warm feeling in the kitchen.

"Do you want to have a ceremony?" Dani asked suddenly.

Jamie turned around, eyebrows raised. "A ceremony?"

"Like, a wedding," Dani said. "I know it wouldn't be…legally binding, or whatever. But we could still have a ceremony. Invite the people we love, eat some cake, have a party."

Jamie turned back to the stove, falling quiet for a moment, absently stirring the mushrooms.

"Do you want that?" She asked.

Dani swallowed, smile dropping. She looked into her coffee for a moment, then shook herself.

"We don't need it," she said, the smile returning. "But we should go on a honeymoon."

"A honeymoon, eh?" Jamie had begun plating, and with a final, careful placement of some very unburnt bacon, she turned and brought breakfast over to Dani. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah." Dani pulled her stool forward, picking up her fork. "Yeah! We could go to Paris."

"And never leave the hotel room?" Jamie waggled her eyebrows.

Dani laughed. "We have to at least see Owen."

"Oh, well," Jamie leaned forward on her elbows. "I suppose we can do that."

"And then spend the rest of the time in the hotel room." Dani said, taking a bite of the baked beans.

Jamie laughed, and Dani's eyes crinkled at the edges as she laughed with her.

"Oh." Jamie sighed, her smile fading as she gazed at Dani. "I was an idiot today, wasn't I?"

Dani frowned. "What?" She asked around a mouthful of beans.

"I wish I had said yes," Jamie said. "To a ceremony. To a party. To a wedding. With you."

"Jamie," Dani breathed, slowly lowering her fork.

"I know we called each other wife after this," Jamie said, reaching forward and grasping Dani's hand. "And I know when civil unions came about we got one. But we never celebrated, did we?"

Dani's eyes shone, and she clutched Jamie's hands between her own, tightly. "It didn't matter," she said softly. "The rings-"

"Enough for me, if they're enough for you?" Jamie turned Dani's hand over, running her thumb over the claddagh ring on her finger, the one that matched her own. She lifted it to her lips, and kissed it, shutting her eyes as tears ran down her cheeks.

"And they were, Jamie," Dani whispered fiercely. "You were enough for me, always enough for me."

"And you for me." Jamie opened her eyes. "But the truth is, the more time went on, the more I thought about it, the more I wished I had said yes to a celebration. I wished I could have stood up in front of our friends, and our family, and committed to always being there for you, to loving you."

"Flora could have been a bridesmaid," Dani said, a light smile on her lips.

"Owen could have been my best man," Jamie grinned. "Or I'd ask him to walk me down the aisle. I can't decide which one he would freak out about more."

Dani gasped. "Miles could bring his boyfriend!"

"Oh, yes, except," Jamie titled her head. "They weren't together yet, when this happened."

"Right," Dani nodded. "Miles wasn't even out yet, poor kid. But maybe if we'd done it when we got the civil union."

Jamie pointed at her. "The smart one, as usual." She glanced towards the windows, covered in plants. "I could do the flowers."

"You'd want to do your own flowers?"

"Who else could I trust to get it right?"

Dani laughed, clear and bright as a bell.

"I would have liked planning a wedding this time," she said. "If it were with you."

"I'd have helped more, for one thing," Jamie replied, tucking a strand of hair behind Dani's ear.

"That's true."

Jamie gazed at her for a moment, before her expression became more distant, eyes looking past Dani.

"They legalized gay marriage in the Netherlands, you know?" She said. "In April."

"They did?" Dani asked, eyes widening slightly.

"Yeah," Jamie nodded. "And there's talk in Canada. And other countries. It's happening, Dani. If we'd just-if you'd just-"

"If we'd had a little more time," Dani whispered, hands gripping Jamie's painfully tight. "Jamie, I'm so-"

"Don't," Jamie stopped her, a warning in her voice. "Don't apologize."

"But-"

"No."

Dani's brow was furrowed, staring at Jamie as though something about her was confusing her.

"This is strange," she muttered. "Something is…wrong."

"It's just a memory," Jamie said, dropping her gaze to their joined hands. "It's not even real. What did you say the kids called it? Dream hopping. This is all just my memory."

Dani shook her head. "But this is…there's something weird."

"It's ok, Dani." Jamie kissed her fingers again. "It's just a memory."

Dani continued to stare, blue eyes darting between Jamie's green ones. She was fading away, even as Jamie watched her, and Jamie found herself desperately holding on.

"Wait," she said, voice breaking. "Please don't - don't go. Not yet. I like this one. Can we just stay here for a bit? It's not enough time, I haven't had enough time."

"There's never enough time, is there?"

Dani was gone, but from the seat beside her vacated one, Viola Lloyd gazed sadly at Jamie.

She looked different, again. Still not completely human, hair and dress still damp. She had eyes now, though they were clouded over, and the rest of her face was unnaturally smooth, like a mannequin in a store front. She heaved a heavy sigh, eyes trailing back to where Dani had sat moments before.

"You took her from me," Jamie whispered, tears spilling over.

"I did," Viola said. Her voice was scratchy, disused. "Before her time. It was the same with me, I think."

Jamie opened her mouth to retort angrily, but caught herself. This isn't why you're here, she thought sternly. Closing her eyes for a moment, she steadied herself against the counter, and breathed in, out and in again.

"You were sick," she said finally, opening her eyes, her voice carefully even.

"Yes," Viola replied, turning her face towards Jamie. "Very sick. I should have died, really. But I didn't. I held on. Stubborn."

"You didn't want to leave your husband," Jamie said.

"No," Viola shook her head. "It wasn't fair. I had fought so hard for the life I had. And there it was, slipping through my fingers, like sand in an hourglass."

"You wanted more time with him."

"Not just him." Viola's brow furrowed. "There were others. A family, I had a family. A small family, but a family all the same."

Jamie nodded. "A sister, maybe?"

Viola's face turned towards Jamie so fast it seemed to blur, and something there twisted, mouth curling, eyes hardening.

"Yes," she said, the word coming out in a snarl. "A _sister_."


	4. the forest edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO again! And thank you for joining us on The Fantastic Adventures of Jamie in Wonderland. this chapter doesn't have a whole lot of Dani in it, because as it turns out, I wrote a lot of this as a Jamie character study by accident. I hope you enjoy!

_I had withdrawn in forest, and my song_

_Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;_

_And to the forest edge you came one day_

_(This was my dream) and looked and pondered long,_

_\- Robert Frost, "A Dream Pang"_

_March 1986_

There was a young man sitting at the bar, watching her.

Normally, Jamie would ignore that sort of thing. Young men watched her; it was a fact of life when you were a young woman on your own. And Jamie was usually on her own, in whatever she did.

But there was something off about this young man. His eyes had followed her since she walked into the pub, ready for a quick bite to eat after work before she headed upstairs for bed. She had tried to eat quickly, not wanting to deal with whatever he wanted from her. Had determinedly not looked towards the bar. She was tired, and all she wanted was to be left alone.

It had been a long day at the manor. Rebecca seemed to be drifting away from them all more and more lately, and that meant the kids were often left to their own devices. And kids left to their own devices meant trouble, which sometimes meant Jamie gritting her teeth at a bed of trampled flowers and two half-way apologetic children.

But just as she was about to get up, the chair across from her slid out, and the young man slid into it.

"Uh," Jamie said, staring at him. "Hello?"

"Jamie?" He asked, nervousness spelled out across his face.

Jamie blinked at him; took him in, from the slight frame, the brown hair and beard, the jaw and nose and bright green eyes that mirrored her own.

"Fuck," she said. "Denny?"

"Well," he smiled weakly. "That's one way to greet your older brother."

"What-" Jamie looked around the bar wildly, as if the smoke-filled room could give her answers. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see you, didn't I?" He said. "I've been looking for ages. I know you went to see Mum a while ago-"

"Came to see me?" Jamie gaped at him. "But…why?"

"You're my sister," Denny said, as if that was the obvious explanation.

Jamie sighed, and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. "I'm gonna need another drink for this," she said.

"I'll get you one," Denny said eagerly, and he was out of the chair before Jamie could stop him.

Hands shaking, Jamie reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out her packet of cigarettes and her lighter. She stuck one between her lips and fumbled with the lighter, trying to get it to light, but only succeeding in clicking it a few times.

A hand covered her own, and Jamie glanced to her right, where Dani smiled at her.

"It's ok," she said soothingly. "I've got it."

She pushed Jamie's thumb out of the way, and clicked the lighter on for her, guiding it to the cigarette at Jamie's lips. Jamie breathed the smoke in, and Dani placed the lighter on the table in front of her, watching her affectionately as Jamie exhaled.

"Can I get one of those?" Denny had reappeared, holding two pints, setting one in front of Jamie and keeping one for himself. He sat back down in the chair and pushed his hair back, a nervous habit Jamie was startled to realize they shared.

"Help yourself," she said, nudging the cigarettes and lighter over to him.

Dani had disappeared from her side, but Jamie could swear she still felt her hand on her shoulder. She took another deep drag of her cigarette, watching as Denny lit one for himself.

"So," she asked. "How did you find me?"

"You keep in contact with Mikey," he said. "I found him through Dad, and well, he pointed the way towards you." He paused, regarding her for a moment. "Don't be pissed at him; he just wants to see his family back together."

"I'm not pissed at Mikey," Jamie said. She tapped ash into the tray on the table and took a gulp of her lager. "I get it. He was too young to remember everything, and he just wants to play happy families. But you," she pointed at him. "You were older."

"I know." Denny fidgeted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Dad's retiring, this year."

"Good for him."

"I , uh, I've been working in the mine too," he said. "And we've gotten closer. Easier being his friend than his son, it turns out." He chuckled humourlessly. "And then I found Mikey, and well, I thought, maybe it was time I looked for you. Thought maybe you could come to Dad's retirement party."

"Denny." Jamie raised her eyebrows. "It's been almost twenty years since I last saw you. And you want to invite me to my estranged father's retirement party?"

"No," Denny sighed. "No, I just." He picked up his beer and drained half the glass in one go. "I don't know. I thought maybe I could get to know you? You're my sister."

Jamie exhaled smoke, and stared at him. "What do you want to know?"

Denny swallowed, sitting up a little straighter. "Well, uh," he cleared his throat. "What do you do here? I mean, in Bly." He waved his hand. "For a living."

"I'm a gardener," Jamie replied. "Groundskeeper. All around general handywoman. At a local manor."

She didn't mention that it was _the_ local manor; the one that shared its name with the village beside it. Denny didn't need to know more than the basics.

"A groundskeeper?" He nodded, almost to himself, a smile quirking his lips. Jamie felt the lead weight in her chest get heavier as she recognized that smile from the mirror.

"Yeah," she said, a touch defensive. "It's a job. Pays well. And I'm bloody good at it."

"No, no, yeah, I mean," he held up his hands, palms outwards. "I was just thinking it makes sense. I remember half the time Mum had to go out in the garden to pull you out of a tree or some bushes. Always covered in dirt, and scrapes. Holes in your dresses."

He puffed on his cigarette, grinning now, as though these were good memories he was sharing. The weight in Jamie's chest was turning into something else, something twisted and sinister, acid dripping into her heart and lungs, burning through her as she gazed steadily at her brother.

The hand on her shoulder gripped tighter, a vice.

"You do realize I was up those trees because I was trying to get away from you and your little friends, don't you?" She asked finally.

Denny froze.

"Jamie," he started.

"Because when you did find me, you'd say I was a whore just like mum." Jamie's voice was quiet, quieter than it had ever been, and detached. She almost wondered if someone else was speaking. "And those scrapes and those holes in my dresses were from your friends at school, weren't they? Pushing me around. Tripping me up. Remember how I broke my arm when I was six because your best mate pushed me down the stairs?"

"I never-" Denny swallowed, and pointed his cigarette towards her, hand shaking. "I never touched you."

"Nah, 'course not." Jamie laughed, a dark, bitter sound. "Dad would have killed you if he found out. But you never stopped them either, did you? Just stood back, and let it happen. Laughed when I got shoved into the walls; when they started kicking. Joined in when it was just words."

She stared at him, the acid coursing through her veins. There were two hands on her shoulders now, gripping so tightly it hurt. But Jamie was focused on the man in front of her, whose face was going pale.

"I was just a kid," he said weakly. "I didn't know."

"So was I!" Jamie hissed, standing up so fast her chair toppled over. "I was just a kid who needed her big brother to protect her, and instead you just made things worse!"

Denny's eyes were wide, staring up at her, his expression aghast. The rest of the pub had gone silent, no one quite looking in their direction, but no one looking away either. The bartender caught Jamie's eye, raising a questioning brow, and Jamie waved him away. He nodded.

"I'm sorry," Denny said, his voice trembling. "Jamie, I - I'm sorry."

He looked so much like a little boy, and for a moment, Jamie saw that same little boy's face laughing at her as she cried, mouth opening to hurl insults. She glared at him, at this man who dared come in here to try and beg her forgiveness, as if he deserved it.

"What he deserves is for you to wrap your fingers around his throat," Viola whispered from behind her, directly into her ear. "And to squeeze until he can never hurt you again."

Jamie breathed in through her nose, fingers curling into fists at her sides. She stalked forward, around the table, to where Denny sat, frozen, eyes widening in fear. Her hand stretched out, closed around his throat, squeezed.

"He'll never hurt you again," Viola murmured. "He'll never betray you again, will never take your husband and daughter from you-"

All at once, the spell broke, and Jamie was back on the other side of the table, having never made the journey around it. She took an unsteady breath, and leaned on the table, dropping her cigarette into the ashtray and grabbing for her drink, taking several gulps.

"Nah," she said, not looking Denny in the eyes. "I - I shouldn't have…"

She took another breath in, and turned around, picking her chair up and sitting back down. She looked up at her brother, blinking away tears.

"How did this go?" She asked. "The first time. What happened?"

"You got angry," Denny said. He looked significantly calmer now, and took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling from one corner of his mouth. "Yelled at me some more. The bartender came over and told me I should leave, and I did."

"Right," Jamie nodded. "But you left me your number."

He smiled. "And you called me three months later."

"I would never actually hurt you, Denny," Jamie said, a tinge of desperation in her voice. "I just - Viola, she - "

"I know," Denny said simply. He extinguished his cigarette and stood up, hands in his jacket pockets. "Do you remember what made you call me?"

"I was thinking about - about that day." Jamie's voice cracked on the last word, and she closed her eyes, breathing in. "The pot, and the water. And I was just - I was too small."

"You were tiny," Denny said gently. "Even for an eight-year-old."

Jamie nodded, looking up at him, eyes glassy. "The water boiled over, and I tried to move it, but I was holding Mikey, and I could barely reach. And it fell, and just…I got him out of the way, but I couldn't-"

"You were screaming," Denny told her. "And Mikey was screaming."

"Someone pulled us outside," Jamie said. "And over to the neighbours. And it only ever occurred to me later that you were the only one home."

Denny said nothing, just ducked his head, and sighed heavily.

"I know now's not a good time," he said, returning to the script from this night, so many years ago. "I get it. But Jamie," he fished a crumpled piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket, leaned onto to the table and scribbled something down. "If you ever find," he took a steadying breath. "If you ever want to, call me."

He placed the paper in front of her, and tapped it twice. Then he straightened up, and attempted a smile.

"See you around, Jamie," he said, and walked out of the pub.

Jamie didn't move for several minutes. Slowly, she picked up the piece of paper, staring at the numbers as they swam in front of her eyes. Sniffing, she stuffed it into her pocket, where it would stay for months, until she would finally take it out again and call her brother.

But that was a while away. Or maybe it was long ago. It didn't matter. Today, Jamie had another task.

"You should have destroyed him," Viola said coldly, taking the seat Denny had vacated. Her voice still grated against Jamie's ears, and her face was still entirely too smooth. Her gaze was a glare, and Jamie tried not to shrink under it.

"I was so angry with him," Jamie said, twisting her beer glass around slowly. "So angry. All I could remember was him hurting me." She searched Viola's face. "Is that what your sister did? Hurt you?"

"She killed me," Viola said simply. "And later, I killed her."

Jamie blinked, mouth opening, then closing again. "Well," she said. "I think you need this more than I do." She pushed the partially drunk beer across the table.

Viola stared at it. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"It's alcohol," Jamie said. "Drink it."

Viola ignored the drink, turning back to Jamie. "My sister suffocated me with her own hands, while I lay in my sick bed."

Jamie exhaled and leaned back in her chair.

"That," she pointed at Viola. "is definitely worse. You win."

"Your brother humiliated you on a daily basis," Viola said. "His friends hurt you while he stood by and did nothing." Her fingernails dug into the table, hands turning into claws. "I don't know how you can simply sit there and - and -"

"Forgive him?" Jamie asked.

"Yes." Viola nodded. "Forgive him."

"I hadn't yet," Jamie said thoughtfully. "Not this night. And I wouldn't, not for a while. Not when I called him. Not when we met for lunch with Mikey. Not for years, I don't think."

"But you did," Viola pressed, leaning forward. "You forgave him, despite everything."

Jamie was quiet, staring off into the distance. From the bar, Dani smiled at her, and waved. Jamie blinked and she was gone.

"I did," she said, a kind of wonder in her voice. "I did forgive him eventually."

"I don't think I could ever forgive her." Viola's voice didn't sound angry anymore, just distant, almost sad. Jamie resisted the urge to reach across the table and take her hand. "For what she did to me. I trusted her, I loved her, and she -" She took a shuddering breath, and Jamie was surprised to see a tear running down her too-smooth cheek.

"I don't think you have to," Jamie said quietly. "Forgive her, I mean. Sometimes there's too much between two people for forgiveness." She frowned. "But aren't you tired of being so angry?"

Viola said nothing, face still as stone. Jamie continued.

"Dani said you were full of rage." Finally giving in, Jamie reached across the table and took The Lady in the Lake's hand, squeezing lightly. "And loneliness. And doesn't that get tiring? I was tired after 20 years of being angry. Aren't _you_ tired? After _400_ years?"

"Yes." Viola's grip on Jamie's hand tightened, almost painful. "Yes, I am. But I don't know anything else."

Jamie nodded. "I know, but-"

"All I have known for so long is this anger," Viola said, more tears slipping out. "I was betrayed by my sister, and left behind by my husband, and forgotten by my-"

She gasped, and her grip tightened even further, causing Jamie to suck in a pained breath.

Viola's eyes were wide, staring at nothing.

"Forgotten by my _daughter_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen a lot of folks write Denny as being a jerk, and like, maybe he would be, but I can't help but think that he was just a kid too. Jamie never gives a real age range on herself and her brothers, but I've always assumed she was probably pretty small, if boiling water could hit her shoulder the way it seems to, and it doesn't seem like Denny was too much older than her, from what she says. So, I thought I would give them a chance at being siblings. It's my fic, I can do what I want.
> 
> I also just wanted to say, I do NOT think forgiveness is a requirement for moving on, and it's important to me that that is understood. So, yeah. There ya go.


	5. deep in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for some reason this and the next chapter were the hardest for me to write. but i'm pretty pleased with them!

_Somewhere deep in the dark_

_A howling beast hears us talk_

_\- Of Monsters and Men, Yellow Light_

_July 1991_

A small girl was staring Jamie down.

"Hmmm." Jamie's gaze flickered between her opponent and her cards. "Got any eights?"

"Go Fish," said the small girl.

"No eights at all?" Jamie asked, incredulous. "None?"

"Nope."

"You didn't have any aces either."

"Mm-mm."

"Or any kings. Or queens. Or jacks."

A shake of the head.

"Are you holding fake cards or something? Am I being tricked?"

The little girl giggled. "Go fish!"

"I think I'm being cheated," Jamie grumbled, as she picked up a card to add to her impossibly large hand. "Poppins, do you think she's cheating?"

"Sam would never cheat," Dani said automatically from the kitchen.

"Right," Jamie narrowed her eyes. "Well, go on then. Ask me."

"Got any twos?" Sam, who was most certainly cheating, asked.

Jamie handed them over.

"I can't believe I'm getting my arse handed to me by a five-year-old," she muttered.

"Please don't swear in front of the children," Dani called.

Jamie's head whipped towards her, eyes round. "How did she even hear that?" She stage-whispered to Sam.

"She has super hearing," Sam whispered back. "That's what Liz says."

"She might be on to something." Jamie looked at the other small girl in her charge, who was leaning against Jamie's arm with a book that looked far too old for her. "What d'you think, Lizzie?"

"Dani's a superhero," Liz said, not looking up from her book.

"Oh?" Jamie raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you say that?"

"She has different coloured eyes."

"That's called het-hetro-hetrachr-hetercho-" Sam's little face scrunched up as she attempted the word.

"Heterochromia," Dani supplied, appearing at the door to the kitchen, smiling softly.

"Yeah!" Sam waved at her. "That!"

"Dani," Jamie said solemnly. "If that's really how you feel, I understand, but we have an apartment together-"

She was cut off by a dish towel hitting her in the face, causing the two little girls to dissolve into giggles.

"Ok, troublemakers," Dani said, ignoring her girlfriend's indignant spluttering. "Dinner's ready. Go wash your hands please."

The two little girls leapt up, and raced for the bathroom. Jamie put her ridiculous hand of cards down and pushed herself up off the ground, groaning.

"I'm getting old," she said, stretching. "Shouldn't be sitting on floors so much anymore."

"You can crouch in front of a rose bush for hours," Dani said, coming over to her. "But you can't sit on a floor for a game of cards?"

"I am filled with complexities, me," Jamie said, grinning.

Dani hummed, and began straightening Jamie's clothes, where they had gotten rumpled from sitting on the floor. She adjusted the collar sticking out over her sweater, and pressed a soft kiss to Jamie's lips.

"Gross!"

The two women broke apart, still smiling, and turned to face the children, now hovering in the doorway, hands out to cover each other's eyes. Dani laughed, and made her way over to them, hands on her hips.

"Alright, alright," she said. "Let's see those hands."

Sam and Liz held out their hands, and Dani inspected them closely, turning each one over, before nodding decisively.

"Perfectly clean," she said. "Let's eat."

She led the little girls into the kitchen, where dinner was set on the table; home-made pizza, with toppings added by Sam and Liz and Jamie, crust made by Dani. Excited, the little girls clambered into their seats, waiting impatiently for Dani and Jamie to sit at their own.

Babysitting the Larson twins was always an experience, one Jamie treasured. Dani hadn't had many chances to interact with kids since Bly, and while Jamie knew she was happy in their life together - with the shop, the apartment, the one-day-at-a-time-but-not-really of it all - she recognized that working with children was something Dani missed. So watching her talk to the two girls about why pineapple was objectively the best pizza topping made Jamie's heart ache in the best way.

"I dunno, Poppins," Jamie said, making a face. "I believe fruit of all kinds should be kept away from pizza."

"I like it," Liz declared. "Can we put pineapple on pizza next time?"

"For sure!" Dani said warmly.

"Absolutely not," Jamie said at the same time.

They pretended to glare at each other from across the table, though Jamie could see that Dani was fighting back laughter.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Dani said to Liz. "We won't let mean ol' Jamie get in the way of our delicious pizza."

"We won't!" Liz said gleefully, shaking her head to add emphasis.

A tug on Jamie's sleeve caused her to look at the other twin, who was leaning over the table towards her with an earnest expression.

"I don't want pineapple either," Sam whispered.

"We'll stage a rebellion, don't you worry," Jamie whispered back.

"What's a rebellion?"

"It's when you stop Poppins here from ruining pizza."

Sam's eyes lit up. "We're gonna have a rebellion!" She exclaimed.

"Can I help?" asked Liz.

"No! You're on Dani's side!"

"I wanna be in the rebellion!"

"Now look what you've done," Dani said, voice long-suffering.

"I feel a little rebellion is good for 'em," Jamie said, leaning back in her chair and resting her arms behind her head. "Builds character."

Dani sighed and shook her head, but she was smiling. Jamie grinned back, warmth swelling in her chest like a balloon.

After dinner they put on The Little Mermaid, which Dani had rented and which the twins watched with wide eyes. This, unfortunately, had the side effect of a sing-along beginning just as Dani and Jamie tried to put the girls to bed. A long, adorable battle ensued, until the kids were fast asleep, and Dani and Jamie were cuddled together on the couch, sipping wine and relaxing.

"God, kids are tiring," Jamie sighed, snuggling further Dani's neck. "You're warm."

"I absolutely blame you for that last burst of energy at the end there," Dani said, fingers trailing through Jamie's hair.

Jamie craned her neck to look up at her. "Oi, what'd I do?"

"'Little bit of rebellion's good for 'em,'" Dani mocked her, accent as terrible as it had been that morning in the greenhouse. "'Builds character.' God you're so full of it sometimes."

"I stand by it," Jamie said, settling back down and nuzzling at Dani's collarbone. She placed a small kiss there and smiled, humming contentedly.

They lay in silence for a moment, Jamie dozing in the comfort of Dani's embrace, Dani gazing at the Star Trek episode playing on TV.

"Have you thought about having kids?"

Jamie jolted into awareness, pushing herself up so she was level with Dani's face, which was still turned towards the television.

"Run that by me again?" Jamie asked, breathless.

Dani turned to look at her, the crease between her blue eyes signalling her seriousness.

"Kids," she repeated. "Have you thought about it?"

"Well, I mean, I, uh." Jamie stopped, breathed in, and started again. "Honestly, Poppins, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't."

Dani nodded, looking away, corners of her mouth curling downwards. "Right."

"With you, Dani," Jamie said, adjusting herself so she could use her other hand to push Dani's chin up, to face her. "You - you get that, yeah? I've thought about having kids with you, specifically."

A humourless smile flashed across Dani's face. "Well, I'm not sure that's physically possible, but I can do my best."

Jamie allowed herself a small chuckle. "We'll come back to that when we're back in our apartment," she said. "But seriously, Dani, have _you_ thought about kids? With, uh." She cleared her throat. "With me?"

Dani didn't answer right away, eyes unfocusing as she seemed to consider this.

"Of course I have," she said finally. Her voice was rough, and Jamie was dismayed to see unshed tears in her eyes. "Jamie, of course I've thought about having kids with you." The tears spilled over, and Jamie felt that familiar panic at the thought of Dani crying rising in her chest.

"Oh, darlin'." Jamie leaned up, kissing her on her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, and the corner of her mouth. "I swear I wouldn't be that terrible of a mum. No need to cry at the thought."

Dani laughed, wiping at her eyes. "No, you idiot," she said affectionately. "I think you'd be a great mom. That's the problem."

At Jamie's confused expression, she sighed.

" _She_ could still take me," she said softly. "You know that."

Jamie nodded. "I do," she said, matching Dani's quiet tone.

"So no matter how much I want it," Dani took in a shuddering breath. "It just can't happen. Because then I might leave you, alone, with a child, and I can't-"

Fresh tears came then, and Dani buried her face in Jamie's neck, entire body shaking. Jamie cradled the back of Dani's head, pressing her lips to her hair and murmuring soothingly. After a few minutes, Dani stilled, and pulled back.

"Oh." She tutted. "Your shirt." She wiped ineffectively at the damp spot on Jamie's shirt.

"Don't worry about it, it'll dry." Jamie ducked her head to catch Dani's gaze, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. "Hey, look at me for a second."

Dani forced herself to look into Jamie's eyes, lip still trembling.

"Listen," Jamie said. "I never thought I would even consider having a family before." She paused, lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. "My, ah, history with families isn't exactly great, as you know. And growing up, the way I did, and then realizing I was more interested in the fairer sex, well," she shot Dani a small grin. "I never thought kids were in the cards for me. Thought, even if they were, I would probably fuck 'em up somehow. But you," she laughed lightly, and ran her knuckles gently down Dani's cheek. "God, Dani, with you, anything seems possible, y'know?"

Dani's lips quirked up in a small smile. "You're so good with Sam and Liz, and with Miles and Flora." She shifted, pulling herself further up on the couch. "Give yourself more credit."

"Bit different being a babysitter or an aunt than it is being a mum," Jamie pointed out.

"That's what I mean," Dani said. "You deserve the chance to find that out for yourself."

"Dani," Jamie said warningly. "Don't. Don't go down that road."

It wasn't a new conversation; that Jamie deserved more, deserved better, deserved someone she knew would stick around, wouldn't leave her one night as a ghost took Dani away.

"Jamie," Dani started. "It's not fair-"

"No, it's not," Jamie agreed, pushing up to lean her forehead against Dani's. "It's not fair, because you'd be an amazing mum, and with you, I think I would have a good chance at not making any messes. It's not fair that we won't get that chance."

Dani's breath hitched, more tears leaking out. She opened her mouth, no doubt to keep arguing that Jamie shouldn't have to stay tied to a dead woman walking, but footsteps from the hallway interrupted her.

"Is that one of the kids?" Dani asked, twisting awkwardly to look.

"No," Jamie breathed, staring at the doorway to the hall. "It's not."

Viola smiled back at her sadly, looking more human than Jamie had ever seen her. Still not quite there - like a wax figure at Madame Tussaud's, Jamie thought, but her eyes were no longer cloudy, and she seemed to be almost completely dry. Slowly, Jamie pushed herself up from where she lay tangled in Dani, so she was sitting up straight on her knees.

"It's not fair," Viola said, moving into the room, words dropping like stones into the room. "And I suppose it's my fault, isn't it?"

"Oh," Jamie's mouth twisted, anger welling up in her chest. "D'you think?"

"Yes." Viola stopped at the couch, and sat down next to Jamie, who realized with a start that Dani had disappeared. "None of us really had a chance to be mothers, did we?" She looked at Jamie. "You, me, or Dani."

"You took her away before we could even try," Jamie bit out, fists clenching on her thighs.

"You're angry," Viola observed. "I understand."

"Do you really?" Jamie asked, voice shaking. "You took Dani's life from her. Stole it, before her time. We could have had so many more years together. We could have had a family. There are so many things we are never going to get to do, because you-"

She stopped, closing her eyes and breathing through her nose, nostrils flaring. Slowly, she sank back onto her heels, counting backwards from twenty.

This was not productive, she reminded herself. Her anger would do nothing to help Dani.

"I-" Viola's voice made Jamie open her eyes again. "I understand. How you feel."

Jamie said nothing, fighting to keep her temper under control.

"Well, perhaps not exactly," Viola reasoned, watching Jamie out of the corner of her eye. "I was a mother, but not in a way that mattered. By the time she was old enough to remember me, I was an ill, bitter woman. A ghost, really."

"Ironic," Jamie said stiffly.

Viola chuckled. "Yes." She agreed. She looked at Jamie, eyes dark and sad. "I think I've been looking for her, all these years. I want her to be with me."

Jamie frowned. "You wanted to bring your daughter to be with you," she said slowly. "At the bottom of a lake?"

Viola's mouth hardened. "She's _my_ daughter. Shouldn't she be with me?"

"At the cost of her life?"

Jamie barely flinched at Dani's voice. Somehow, she had felt her before she spoke, standing behind the couch, arm resting next to Jamie's head. She was staring at Viola, eyes hard, brow furrowed, fist clenched.

"I am her mother," Viola said, rising from the couch and turning to face Dani, voice growing louder. "She should have been with me the whole time. My time with her was taken from me. All I wanted was to get back what was rightfully mine."

"Your daughter was a person," Dani said. "She wasn't anyone's."

Viola scoffed. "Of course you would say that."

"Of course she would-" Jamie looked between the two women, eyes wide. "What does that mean?"

Dani and Viola continued to glare at each other, as darkness closed in on all sides around them. Jamie grabbed for Dani's hand desperately, only to watch her fingers slip through it as though there was nothing there.

"Dani-!" But Dani was gone. Viola was gone. All at once, Jamie's vision was filled with a blinding light, and her hearing deafened by a great clap of thunder, and then there was nothing.

Nothing, except-

* * *

_June 1987_

The thunder rumbled twice more before fading away, the blessed silence letting Jamie relax back into the couch cushions, unknotting the tension in her shoulders slowly. She eyed Miles and Flora, fast asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace; but neither of them had woken up, evidently exhausted from all the excitement of the night.

It was always strange, being at the manor after dark. Jamie was usually gone by supper, or just after when she was coaxed to stay by Flora or Owen. The great house became unfamiliar to her at night, painted with shadows and strange noises, the life that filled it during the day falling into an uneasy sleep.

But it wasn't so bad now. The sitting room was warm, and Jamie was comfortably ensconced on the couch next to Dani, content that even if Peter Quint had been spotted on the grounds, everyone she loved was in one room, and her shotgun was within reach. The spiked hot chocolate had even loosened her enough to let herself watch Dani out of the corner of her eye, as Dani studied the polaroid of Peter and Rebecca.

"Oh," Hannah's voice, quiet, from across the room, where she had fallen asleep against Owen's shoulder. "God, I'm so sorry, I-truth be told, I haven't slept well for days."

"Oh Mrs. Grose," Owen replied softly. "It is too late now." He gestured to his shoulder. "Go on, tuck in and relax for a bit."

Jamie smiled into her drink as Hannah let her head fall back to Owen's shoulder. Her eyes slid over to Dani, and she felt a familiar hitch in her chest at the sight. This little crush, which she'd been nursing on the au pair ever since Dani had told her she was right to be angry about her roses, was starting to get annoying.

"Rather that was you curled up there?" she murmured, leaning forward and dragging Dani's attention away from the photograph. At Dani's confused expression, she motioned towards Owen and Hannah.

"Every girl in the village is mad for him," she said, rolling her eyes. "And he doesn't even know it, which makes it even worse."

Dani laughed softly, but immediately turned back to the photograph.

"They look like Bonnie and Clyde," she said.

Jamie held back a scoff. "Yeah, if Clyde fucked Bonnie over." She scowled at the photo in Dani's hand. "He got away, she paid the price."

"So, what," Dani turned to her. "He's stalking a dead woman? Risking prison for someone he didn't even bother to bring along? That doesn't make sense."

Jamie sighed, avoiding Dani's eyes and staring at the polaroid. "The wrong kind of love," she said simply. "Can fuck you up. Follow you. Make you do some really stupid shit."

Across the years, she caught a glimpse of brown eyes, a grinning mouth with her name on the lips, and the flashing blue of police lights.

"And those two," she glanced from Dani to the photograph. "Believe me, that was the wrong kind of love."

"We've all been in the wrong kind of love for one reason or another," Dani said.

"Mm, but I saw how he twisted himself into her." Jamie's mouth hardened at the memories, and she missed the way Dani turned slowly towards her, memories of her own flashing briefly across her face. "Burrowed in deep." Dani had turned away by the time Jamie glanced at her, and she averted her own gaze from the au pair's face. "I dunno why so many people mix up love and possession. But guess what that means? He didn't just trap her. He trapped himself." She glared at the Peter Quint in the photo. "And I hope she haunts that fucker forever."

There was a moment of silence, in which Dani gazed at Jamie, and Jamie gazed at the photograph, hating the memory of Peter Quint, mourning the memory of Rebecca Jessel, trying to banish the memory of a body floating in the lake she saw every day.

"People do, don't they?" Dani said softly. "Mix up love and possession?"

Startled, Jamie met her eyes, the air instantly becoming heavier around her. She swallowed, and nodded.

"Yeah, they do," she said.

"I don't think that should be possible." Dani's voice was a whisper, but her words seemed so loud to Jamie, striking her between the ribs and making it hard to breathe. "I mean, they're opposites, really. Love and ownership."

She seemed so earnest, eyes wide and mouth set. For the first time, Jamie let herself look; didn't avert her eyes or turn away, find a reason to look anywhere but directly at Dani Clayton's face. She had feared it might be like looking into the sun too long, and that she would eventually be blinded. But instead-

Instead, she found Dani looking back.

"Yeah," she said, the word so quiet it was only for herself and Dani to hear.

The room narrowed to the couch, to just Dani and Jamie. Dani nodded slightly, something like relief flickering across her face.

"She comes here often, you know."

Jamie's head whipped around, hands gripping her mug hard when she saw Viola standing next to her, pale skin shining a sickly yellow in the light of the table lamp. Viola walked around the back of the couch, her hand trailing over the wooden frame, both Jamie and Dani's eyes following her.

"I'm not sure what it is, about this memory," Viola continued, coming to a stop at the end of the couch, looking down at Dani curiously, who stared back, brow furrowed. "It's not where she fell in love with you. Not even where her affection for you began. She already felt something for you here."

And Jamie knew that. Dani had told her, years from this moment, that her feelings had started earlier than this, when Jamie had consoled her during her panic attack. That she had felt that same familiarity Jamie had when they'd first laid eyes on each other.

But this moment, this conversation on the couch - something _had_ happened here; something they had never spoken about, because they had never needed to. An understanding. More than that, really. Recognition. A deepening of the connection they had both felt in that first moment in the kitchen.

_Ah, there you are._

"Viola," Dani started, voice strangely gentle, like she was speaking to a student, but Viola shook her head.

"I have listened to you have this conversation many times now," she said, frustration colouring her voice, as she sat in one of the chairs near Dani. "And I have yet to _understand_."

Dani and Jamie glanced at each other. Jamie straightened up, placing her mug on the table beside her, and cleared her throat.

"It's about," she paused, looking to Dani for support. "Rebecca and Peter - do you remember Peter?"

Viola shook her head. Jamie frowned.

"You killed him," she said drily.

Viola blinked, and for a moment, she almost looked ashamed. Then it was gone.

"I don't remember," she said quietly. "I don't remember much from this time."

"Right," Jamie said, unconvinced.

Dani reached for Jamie, sliding their fingers together and squeezing.

"It's not about Rebecca and Peter," Dani said softly, eyes on Jamie. "Not really."

"No, I suppose not," Jamie replied, ducking her head and looking at their joined hands.

"My ex - my - Eddie," Dani's breath hitched, and Jamie's thumb started rubbing circles on the back of her hand. "You've seen Eddie. In my memories."

Viola nodded. "You were too good for him," she said primly.

Dani smiled weakly, shaking her head. "No, that's not," she took a breath. "He loved me. But not - he loved the person he thought I was. And more than anything, he wanted me to stay that person." She closed her eyes. "It's like, those cases of butterflies you see in museums. He caught me, and he wanted to keep me, and to never let me change." She opened her eyes again, looking at Viola with a grim expression. "Do you understand that?"

Viola was quiet, brow furrowed. "You didn't love him back," she said finally.

"Not like that, anyway," Dani said, nodding. "Not the way he wanted me to love him."

Viola stared her, unblinking. "But you love her," she said, and her gaze shifted to Jamie. "You love her with everything you are. I felt it. Every day in your mind. I felt your love for her."

Dani smiled, and looked at Jamie. She raised their joined hands to her mouth, and kissed her knuckles.

"Yes," she breathed. "Of course I do. How could I not?"

Jamie smiled at her, though something was niggling at the back of her head.

_Blue eyes_ , she thought distantly.

"I love my husband," Viola said. "And I love my daughter. And I would give anything for them to be with me. Anything. And yet." She stared at Jamie this time. "And yet, you wouldn't take her down, to join you. Even though she asked for it. Begged for it. Even though letting her go meant you would be without her."

"Jamie has a whole life to live still," Dani said evenly, hand squeezing Jamie's almost too hard. "I wouldn't - I couldn't - even if she wanted it -"

"I did," Jamie said quietly, drawing both Dani and Viola's attention to herself. "I would have happily drowned to be with you, you know that."

"I do," Dani said, a little helplessly. "And that's why I couldn't let you."

"I know," Jamie said, one side of her mouth quirking up in a sad half-smile.

"If I had the same chance," Viola said, voice brittle. "I would bring my family to be with me."

"Is that really what you'd want?" Jamie asked, leaning forward. "For your husband? For your _daughter_? To lay at the bottom of the lake forever? To slowly forget who she is?"

"Daughters should be with their mothers," Viola said firmly.

"Sometimes that's not how it works," Dani said, voice quiet.

"It should be," Viola insisted, eyes flashing dangerously. "It's one thing to let your wife go, but if you had a child you would understand. It's a mother's job to protect her child, to be there for her, to love her, and hold her close, and-"

"Mum?"

Viola fell silent, looking over Dani and Jamie's shoulders with a frown.

"Who-?" She asked, and then her eyes flicked to Jamie.

"Mum?"

The voice was familiar, and Jamie felt herself standing up before she could really think about it, something insistent pulling her towards the sound. Dani's hand slid out of her grasp as she made her way towards the hallway.

"Jamie," Dani said from behind her. "Jamie, what-?"

Jamie kept going, heart thudding in her chest, through the door, down the hall, and finally, stepped somewhere that wasn't Bly Manor, opened her mouth, and said,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i wonder what's coming up next

**Author's Note:**

> title of this here fanfic is taken from The Twilight Zone episode "Perchance to Dream."


End file.
